


Shut Up, Stilinski

by JamieShipsIt



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Season/Series 03, Stiles is 17, compliant after season 3 a
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:44:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2061570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieShipsIt/pseuds/JamieShipsIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Peter get stranded in the woods and decide to rest for the night before getting help. Stiles can never shut up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Up, Stilinski

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is the first fic I've ever written... I hope you enjoy it! I didn't have a beta or anything so I apologize for any mistakes. Feel free to leave me any feedback! I'm going to write and post more after this, for multiple pairings/fandoms. If I get good enough I'd hope to take requests one day. Anyways, have a good read and enjoy! :)

The last place Stiles ever imagined he would be is cozied up in the back of his jeep next to a psychopath in the middle of nowhere.

Yet here he was.  
\----------------------  
Things were going better than imaginable after the group split up to hunt down the influx of monsters that found their way into Beacon Hills after the whole Nemeton situation. 

Scott, Derek, and Cora (despite Derek’s many protests of it being too dangerous) took on the Berserkers, the unbelievably strong creatures that wandered all the way from Mexico. Allison, Isaac, and Mr. Argent hunted down the Wendigos, while Lydia, Kira, and Deacon took on the Ghouls. That left Peter and Stiles with the Fairies. 

Stiles admittedly scoffed at being assigned to the fairies at first, while Peter grimaced. After Peter’s tales of his past encounters with the little bastards, Stiles realized that they were not to be under estimated. They were extremely intelligent and tricky, which is why the group unanimously agreed Stiles and Peter were best suited for the job, their intelligence and unique ways of thinking giving them the best chance of defeating the pests. Despite his doubts, he and Peter worked remarkably well together.

The four teams took down their opponents flawlessly, with minimum injuries and no casualties. After Stiles had texted Scott to confirm that he and Peter had taken down the Fairies, Scott updated him on Cora’s minor concussion and Deacon’s few cuts and gashes. Stiles was relieved that everything had gone so well. 

Until Stiles’ jeep broke down two hours out from Beacon Hills.

“Shit,” Stiles muttered while Peter simply sighed. 

He climbed out to inspect his baby. Everything under the hood looked fine, he didn’t understand what happened.

“It’s out of gas,” Peter supplied before Stiles could investigate further.

Oops. Stiles tried to shrug to cover his embarrassment. He wasn’t always the best at paying attention when he was driving on such long, straight roads. He had a habit of drifting off and getting lost in his own mind while his baby drove on.

He checked his phone. No service.

Stiles took a quick look at their setting. An old road surrounded by forest. It didn’t look as if anything was closer than a couple hours’ walk, and the sun had already set long ago. He stifled a yawn.  
Peter sympathized with the boy. Despite his advanced abilities, a day of hunting down those damned Fairies exhausted him.

“Look,” Peter began, “we’re both exhausted and the closest service station is hours away if we walk. Let’s just rest here and go for help in the morning.”

Although Stiles was still weary of the creeper-wolf at times, he felt like he could mostly trust him after coming out alive from their day with the Fairies. 

Stiles nodded, “Yeah, I suppose that is the best idea,” and climbed into the back of the jeep. They spent a few minutes digging out the extra blankets Stiles kept under his seats (can’t have any werewolves bleeding all over his interior) and started to settle. Stiles just got comfortable when he noticed Peter was still shifting and heard a small growl of frustration. 

He knew his own front seats, and predicting the answer, he sighed and asked anyways, “what’s wrong Peter?”

“Your front seats aren’t exactly the most comfortable, you know,” he muttered.

Stiles was already going to be spending the night with a back-from-the-dead, went-through-a-psycho-murdering-phase werewolf, so how much worse could it really get?

He scooted over and gestured beside him. “You may as well join me back here then.” 

Peter eyed him questioningly, like he might take it back at any minute and tell him to suck it up in the front. Stiles just raised his eyebrows impatiently and repeated his gesture to the seat beside him. Since when did his Creeper Wolf hesitate?

Whoa whoa whoa. And since when did Stiles think of Peter as his Creeper Wolf?

He didn’t have time to finish that thought, because next thing he knew the back seat was full of movement and limbs bumping his uncomfortably until Peter finally got comfortable. 

Stiles had ended up at the very left of the bench seat, while Peter had sprawled across the rest, with his feet rested in Stiles’ lap and a smirk plastered on his face. This was more like Peter.

“Um, excuse me Creeper Wolf, but how am I going to fall asleep like this?” 

“Stiles,” Peter reasoned, “you’re the only person I’ve ever met who can literally fall asleep anywhere, in any position. You fell asleep half-sprawled out on my kitchen table with your face pressed into a dusty three hundred-year-old book.”

He hated to admit Peter had a point, but he was right. “Fine, but if I wake up with a sore neck or back, you totally owe me a massage.”

“Oh trust me,” the wolf smirked, “I’d be happy to oblige.” Stiles wanted to wipe that constant smirk off his face, but he was far too exhausted to continue their usual banter. 

“Goodnight, Creeper Wolf.”

“Goodnight, Little Red.” 

Stiles blushed and pulled his red hoodie up over his head.  
\----------------------  
It wasn’t long before they had both drifted off to sleep before Peter was awoken by a faint murmuring. Fuck, Peter thought, as if the boy didn’t talk enough when he was awake, of course he couldn’t shut up in his sleep. How he wished he could fill up that mouth just to shut it up.

A moan cut through the air and Peter felt the prominent stiffness in Stiles’ lap under his legs. 

A feral grin spread across his face, maybe he’d get to satisfy that wish after all.

Careful to not move too much and wake Stiles up just yet, Peter gently rubbed his feet over the boy’s hardness. Stiles whimpered, and when Peter did it again, adding a bit more pressure, he let out a sinful moan.

Before he knew it he had the shocked boy awake and spread out under him.

Peter had never been one for patience.

Stiles went to speak until Peter lowered himself and ground his own hardness against Stiles’. “Just as I was trying to get some rest, you had to go and continue your incessant rambling and wake me.” 

The boy raised his own body to meet Peter’s and took a deep breath in. 

Eyes practically rolling into his head, he was surprised he could even manage a coherent sentence. “Ohhh, if I knew my rambling could result in this I’d never stop.”

Peter gave him a ruthless kiss at that, taking complete control of it. Stopping for a breath he stated, “Clearly, you never stop anyways,” and continued his attack on Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles’ brain kicked into gear and realized he should probably do more than just lay there and enjoy the texture of Peter’s tongue in his mouth. His hands began to roam the man’s body, starting at his broad shoulders, trailing down his firm biceps, over his incredible fucking abs that he would never stop envying, and finally cupping that beautiful ass, always displayed in Peter’s tight jeans.  
Peter slid down Stiles’ body, sucking marks into his skin along the way.

‘Oh god oh god oh god,’ Stiles thought incoherently, ‘this is happening, holy shit holy shi- Ohhh fuck yes right there – I’m going to have the sex with the hottest man I’ve ever seen oh go-’  
Stiles train of thought was interrupted by Peter’s chuckle. Shit, was he saying that out loud?

“Stiles,” Peter began between wet, suckling kisses and nibbles to his stomach and hips, “I’m not going to have sex with you-” he could picture the boy’s face fall, “not tonight.” 

Stiles let out a sigh of relief followed by a grunt of frustration. “Why not?” He questioned as he tangled his lean fingers in the man’s no-longer flawless hair.

“Because, when I do fuck you – ” he stopped to take the boy’s dick in his mouth and palm himself through his pants, “I want you laid out on my bed where I’ll have the room to maneuver you into any position I please, and be able to watch as I slowly take you apart as you beg me to do so.”

His entire body shuddered and Stiles let out a moan that must’ve echoed through the whole forest as he thrust into Peter’s mouth. The man relaxed his mouth and took it with ease as the head of the boy’s dick hit the back of his throat. Peter let the boy fuck his mouth and swallowed around him on almost every thrust, releasing himself from his pants and jacking himself off in time with Stiles’ rhythm.

“Peter, P-Peter, I’m going to…”

“Yesss,” the man growled around him, making it even harder for Stiles to hold back, “Let go for me Little Red, come for me so I can swallow it all down.”

His whole body tensed and he practically saw starts as his cock emptied down the man’s throat, Peter not missing a drop. 

Stiles would be distracted by how quickly he came if he wasn’t mesmerized by the sight of the man fucking into his own fist with such desperation. “Peter, let me, please…”

Peter looked up at Stiles, his eyes glazed over and pupils blown with lust. “You want to taste me Stiles? You want my come down your throat? You think you can take it all like I took yours?”

Stiles didn’t even answer, just felt himself salivate and shoved Peter back, the man falling willingly, and he swooped down to take him into his mouth.

Peter knew the boy had never done this before, but he noticed Stiles had always had a sort of oral fixation, and it wasn’t at all surprising what a natural he was. What he lacked in experience he more than made up for with sheer enthusiasm. Stiles sucked at Peter eagerly, stopping time-to-time to tongue at the vein on the underside of his dick, to suck his heavy balls into his mouth, or to swirl his tongue around the head like it was a lollipop.

He held out longer than Stiles, but Peter knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. 

“Are you ready Little Red? Are you ready to take it all?” Peter groaned out.

Stiles hummed affirmative around his dick, and the vibrations finished Peter off. He shot his load into the back of Stiles’ throat, the boy not even hesitating as he swallowed it expertly.

“My god,” Peter moaned as Stiles pulled off with a filthy, wet pop, “if you’re this much of a natural now, I can’t wait to see what we can do in my bed.”


End file.
